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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156802">All The Little Bits of Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantisbelle/pseuds/mantisbelle'>mantisbelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Wheel of the Year 2021 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Gen, Geralt and Eskel are not sexually abused, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kaer Morhen, No Abuse Onscreen, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Vesemir (The Witcher), Teacher-Student Relationship, Witcher Training (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:02:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantisbelle/pseuds/mantisbelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Vesemir is used to getting little sleep. He takes care of some of the youngest trainees, after all, and they keep his hands full. Some of them keeping him more busy than others. </p><p>When Geralt and Eskel arrive outside his bedroom in the early hours of the mornings, it's up to Vesemir to determine what exactly is wrong, and how to mend it. </p><p>--------------</p><p>Written for Witcher Wheel of the Year: Imbolc.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel &amp; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel &amp; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Vesemir, Eskel &amp; Vesemir (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Vesemir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Witcher Wheel of the Year 2021 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2295515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A Witcher Wheel of the Year 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All The Little Bits of Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Imbolc for  <a href="https://witcherwheeloftheyear.tumblr.com/">Witcher Wheel of the Year 2021</a> using the prompt "doll."</p><p>I hope you all enjoy this fic!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a good thing that witchers didn’t need a lot of sleep to get by because if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> then Vesemir was certain that he would have been living his life in a state of constant exhaustion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being a trainer at Kaer Morhen was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Harder than being on the Path in some ways, despite the relative luxury that three square meals a day and a roof and a bed presented. Each of the instructors at Kaer Morhen was assigned to one of the cohorts as their primary teacher, but that in no way eased looking after them. It meant that when the trainees in </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> cohort were in trouble, the punishment typically fell on Vesemir’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cohort had several boys that absolutely refused to stay in bed through the night, so Vesemir needed to do near-hourly rounds to ensure that they stayed where they were supposed to. Laying down to get some proper rest was damn near impossible under those conditions. He’d taken to napping during the day while the boys were under the watch of other instructors and he had a few hours to spare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If his boys were older, then he would have gotten more sleep. Oh, he looked forward to them being older even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>dreaded</span>
  </em>
  <span> what was to come when they were old enough to suffer the Trial of the Grasses. Culling the ranks would also, sadly, help. But that wasn’t for a few more years when it came to Vesemir’s cohort of boys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced over at an hourglass that was set out on the table beside his bed. He’d need to get up and do his rounds soon to make sure that they boys were all in bed. When they were older they would be allowed more freedom, but unruly seven and eight year olds like Vesemir’s boys that hadn’t gone through the trials were kept on a strict leash, and with good reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they were older, then he’d be allowed to sleep. He’d have less to manage and the boys would be trusted to handle themselves better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let his eyes slip shut for just a moment, which was then interrupted by the sound of tiny feet moving down the hall towards his room. In the other rooms he could hear some of the other witchers stirring. Nighttime visitors in their quarters weren’t unusual, but their presence was not always tolerated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir shot to his feet, all too aware that if Varin had been woken up the boy outside (</span>
  <em>
    <span>boys</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he realized a moment later as the feet got closer,) were going to be given some sort of punishment for being in the instructor’s wing of Kaer Morhen which was </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically </span>
  </em>
  <span>disallowed. They’d all know that the punishment was less for their presence and more because they’d woken Varin who had finished the process of dealing with seven and eight year olds and had a small cohort three years from going on the Path. He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>earned</span>
  </em>
  <span> his sleep, and one day Vesemir would too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Vesemir had to guess, they would either be given a thrashing or forced to run out to the Bastion for training under the moonlight and in the cold, barefooted. Perhaps they’d be sent to run the killer or stand on the blocks of stone in the training area until Varin decided the was sick of making them stand there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Better not to let that happen to his boys, they were going to have a busy day in the morning anyhow. There were chores to be done, and the boys were expected in the kitchens to help. After, they had training, followed by learning their letters with Master Barmin, more chores, more training, and eventually would finish their evening studying herbs. They needed their sleep if they were expected to get through it with relative ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir stood up and went to the door, glad for the thickness of his socks to protect his feet from the cold of the stone floor. The small fireplace on the wall opposite Vesemir’s bed did little to solve that particular chill. The pelt thrown down in front of the fire was mostly there so Vesemir could meditate comfortably if he felt like it. It also did nothing for the cold of the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two boys outside whispered back and forth, and Vesemir </span>
  <em>
    <span>immediately</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew who had come and who they were there to see. Usually it was the same two boys causing trouble, each one too rambunctious and far too willing to drag the other into their harebrained schemes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they were up to something, however, they would not have come to Vesemir. That could only mean something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he had to go to the cohort’s barrack over some sort of minor injury. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir pulled the door open and sure enough there were Geralt and Eskel standing side by side with each other. Eskel’s eyes were red and his face swollen, Geralt looking much more calm by comparison. Still distressed, but not smelling of his own tears like Eskel was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever it was, Vesemir had no idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir sighed. “You two know that you shouldn’t be up,” Vesemir crossed his arms and looked down at the two of them. If not for the reddish tone of Geralt’s hair and the green of his eyes, Vesemir wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. He knew that there were a few others in the keep who had the same problem. Vesemir could usually tell the difference. The boys acted differently, even if it was hard to tell based on how closely they remained in each other’s orbit. “I should send you back to bed immediately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But—” Geralt nearly shot forward, bold as ever. That was Geralt, </span>
  <em>
    <span>bold.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d make a fine witcher one day, though Vesemir expected him to also meddle in things he shouldn’t. “We wanted you to help us with…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help you?” Vesemir asked. “Do you two know what time it is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both boys stared up at him blankly. Of course they didn’t know the time just yet, they weren’t going to be taught how to read the moon until the spring had come and it was warm enough to take them on expeditions into the valley. In the spring the entire cohort would be considered nine, even if some of them weren’t. It was a system that simplified the fact that most of the boys at Kaer Morhen had no known birthdates. As for the who the oldest in each cohort was, it was often guesswork with no definite answers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel sniffled, and it was all too clear that he’d been crying. Eskel, who was becoming one of Barmin’s favorites because he was more quiet and studious and had taken to meditation like a fish to water. Barmin expected him to be great with signs, when the time came for it. Varin thought Eskel should be sent to Ban Ard where they might have more use for him. As for Vesemir, he chose no side in the debate and merely watched after the boy because it was his job to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir softened. The boy clearly wasn’t injured, that much was clear. “What’s wrong, Eskel?” Geralt shuffled closer to his friend, his near-brother.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel was clutching a bundle of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to his chest, made of cloth. Vesemir didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t normal for the boys to have much in the way of their possessions, but occasionally boys brought in were allowed at least some small comforts to come with them. Usually, that meant a bundle of clothes that were big enough to be stored in a witcher’s saddlebag or perhaps some sort of food for the road to Kaer Morhen, or charms woven to protect them according to peasant superstitions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was decidedly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a bundle of clothes or any sort of food. Perhaps a charm, but not one that Vesemir recognized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A toy, then. Not technically disallowed, but heavily frowned upon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you have?” Vesemir asked, still as gently as he could manage. He stepped aside and gave the boys the room to come into his room. No need to talk about these things out in the open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t much in the way of furniture beyond the bed and Vesemir’s desk and chair. The two boys didn’t complain though, they just seated themselves on the wolf pelt in front of Vesemir’s hearth where a fire was roaring and keeping a kettle of water warm. Vesemir closed the door once they settled, and went to join them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir pulled up his chair and sat down in front of the two of them. “Can I see?” Vesemir asked, having a feeling that he’d managed to divine the source of Eskel’s distress. Geralt must have made the decision to drag Eskel up out of bed and to Vesemir instead of leaving him there to cry. Or perhaps he’d taken Eskel up so that he wasn’t waking the other boys. Whatever it was, it must have been more fixable than the myriad injuries both boys sported from training. They knew better than to come to him for scratches and scrapes at their age. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel sniffled again, nearly whimpering. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt spoke up, his tiny fingers spread through the fur he sat upon. He clenched and unclenched his hands, enjoying the sensation. That was Geralt though, always looking for </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do. If not for Eskel, Vesemir suspected he would have been an absolute menace to try to teach how to read and write. “Eskel’s scared that you’ll take it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it?” Vesemir asked, “That depends on </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> it is. If I find out the two of you have been harassing the wildlife again—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not…” Eskel spoke up finally, barely managing not to whimper through his words. He bowed his head and offered the cloth bundle to Vesemir. He held it far from his body, like he expected punishment for bringing the cloth bundle with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All at once, Vesemir understood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was indeed a toy. More specifically, a cloth doll that must have been smuggled into Kaer Morhen with the few clothes that had been sent along with the boy. If Vesemir had to guess, it might have been stitched by one of his parents. The boy’s mother, most likely. No wonder the distress over something so small. When the boys remembered their parents or had a memento of them, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> led to eventual tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir turned the toy over in his hands. One of the seams had burst and the doll’s leg was about to fall off. It smelled vaguely like wood smoke (cedar, if Vesemir had to guess,) hay, and livestock. Mostly, it smelled like the herbs they burned in the boy’s rooms at night to try and keep them asleep. “Did you bring this with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel nodded. “Mama—” He clamped his mouth back shut. Scared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally the boys weren’t allowed to talk about where they’d come from before. It was for the better that they didn’t, since it was considered for the best that they forgot where they came from. Geralt had the luxury of having been there in Kaer Morhen since his infancy. He may never know his parents, but he didn’t have to know the hurt of losing them. Not in the same way that the boys around him would, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel had been with them since he was four, nearly five. Just old enough to understand what he’d lost directly instead of vaguely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She—” Eskel tried to continue with some difficulty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did your mother give it to you?” Vesemir asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another nod. “She hid it for me, in my things.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was kind of her,” Vesemir kept his voice as gentle as he could. There was no need to make things worse. “I’m sure you miss her?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel nodded, tearing up again. Vesemir beckoned both boys closer to him and sank down onto the fur himself. Geralt immediately pushed himself up into Vesemir’s side, and Eskel was more hesitant. He seated himself by Vesemir’s legs, watching as Vesemir inspected the damage to the doll. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir looked between the two of them. “I’m guessing you two came because you wanted to see if I’d be willing to fix it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Geralt said, “because you always fix our clothes, so we know you can—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand,” Vesemir sighed heavily. “It may take some time to do though, is that alright?" It was an easier job than patching shirts, at the very least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long?” Eskel asked, face brightening slightly even though he was trying to brush the tears away from his eyes with his dirty sleeve. The hem was fraying badly, it would be in need of repair sooner than later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir hummed quietly, considering the toy. Reattaching the leg was more than easy enough, but some of the other stitch work would need more time to repair. No reason to leave it in a state where it’d fall apart again soon. “Shouldn’t be more than a few hours,” Vesemir assured Eskel. “Seeing as I have to take breaks to do rounds and I’ll have to bring the two of you back to the barrack anyhow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel stared up at Vesemir, stormy grey eyes pleading. “You’ll give it back?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Vesemir replied, “There’s no reason to take it from you. You’re still children. If you’d passed the Grasses and came with this, it would be a different story, however.” That was as much of a warning as he could give. They knew well enough, anyhow. Boys that passed the Trial of the Grasses were treated differently than the ones that hadn’t yet. Boys that survived the Trial were expected to become witchers, not emotional things that clung to their homes and memories desperately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was still a few years out for them, however. Two or three years, at the least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel finally allowed himself to get closer to Vesemir, reaching out with his tiny hand to touch his doll. His fingers smoothed over the woven fabric and the bits of wool that were falling out. “Promise?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise,” Vesemir replied. “Though you may not see it until after training tomorrow. I’ll need to slip it back into your room without the others noticing.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Varin can’t get mad unless he sees it himself, and Master Barmin won’t do anything to stop you from having it himself. He’d even see it as useful in a way, if I had to guess,” Vesemir handed the toy back to Eskel to let the boy hold it for a little bit longer. “Master Rennes would take it, though.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel hugged the doll close to his chest, burying his face in the fabric. “Okay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a good pup,” Vesemir pet Eskel’s head gently then looked to Geralt. “Thank you for bringing him here, Geralt. This wasn’t anything to be so upset over. Better you come to me instead of keeping the entire cohort awake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt beamed and hugged Vesemir before going to wrap his arms around Eskel’s frame. “I told you,” He whispered to Eskel, probably not thinking about how Vesemir would hear him. Either that or he’d dropped his volume specifically to comfort. “Master Vesemir is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel nodded and peered up at Vesemir over Geralt’s shoulder with one grey eye, still red with tears. Trusting. Vesemir didn’t want to be the one to break the boy’s trust in Kaer Morhen when it would be the only home they’d know for the rest of their lives, short as they may be. Having boys be in constant distress about where they lived helped no one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir glanced back over to the hourglass. He wouldn’t have to be doing his rounds for a few minutes yet. “I’m going to bring you back when I do my rounds,” he told the two of them, “would it make you feel better if I started fixing it now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yessir,” Eskel mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir offered his hand. Eskel deposited the toy with great care. Vesemir stood up, took his chair and the toy, and went over to the desk. He cleared a space, moving books and notes to the side and laying the doll out in their place. “Sit on the bed, you two. No need to stay in front of the fire. The bed will be plenty warm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two boys climbed up onto the bed, and Vesemir nodded to Geralt to let the boy know that they could use the blanket if they wanted to. Geralt tugged it up over the two of them while Eskel scrambled to get into a position where he could watch Vesemir work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir made a show finding the lacquered wooden casket where he put his smaller tools when he wasn’t on the Path. Inside, he found a case made of felted wool where he stored his needles. Proper metals ones, not the wooden or bone ones that Eskel’s mother most likely used. He chose a thread— simple white and made from wool and showed it to Eskel for approval. Once the boy nodded, Vesemir set to work, removing the old stitches and replacing them with his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The original stitches, Vesemir noted, were uneven and sloppy. Whoever had made the doll was not by any means an experienced seamstress. He was not the best sewer himself, but he knew shoddy work when he saw it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Vesemir looked at the boy and remembered the history that had been stored in the logs regarding his origin. All of the boys had such information on record, it was how they ensured that none were simply stolen as the myths about witchers suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel’s story had come through a witcher by the name of Daveth, a good decade and a half younger than Vesemir was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy was Hill Folk, his mother little more than a child herself. Her family had claimed the boy was the result of an incubus, based on how traumatic the experience had been for the young mother who was left unnamed. Witcher Daveth had been unable to find any evidence of incubi in the surrounding area. In fact he’d found </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> save for a forktail that liked to terrorize the livestock. The conclusion that he’d reached regarding the mystery of the boy’s parentage had been one which Vesemir would have rather forgotten. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ultimately, the family had begged for the bastard boy to go to Kaer Morhen where he might have had a better life. Or perhaps they were looking to erase the shame of his existence, or perhaps they were worried about how he was already swimming with Chaos. When it came to the boys that were given so willingly, it was always hard to tell. Sometimes the family just wanted one less mouth to feed. Either way, Daveth had agreed, taken the boy, and then deposited him straight into Vesemir’s care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the boys went through Kaer Morhen’s gates their pasts weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>to matter. Clearly, they still did, otherwise Eskel wouldn’t still be so upset. Vesemir wouldn’t be able to smell the boy’s history on the doll so easily, even three years removed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your doll will be good as new,” Vesemir promised as he began to lay the first stitches into its fabric. He wasn’t the most skilled when it came to sewing either, but he was certain that his skill and Eskel’s mother’s would look close to comparable. Vesemir laid the needle down, picked up the threads that he’d cut away, and stuffed them into the doll along with the wool that had spilled out. Another piece of his mother Eskel could keep. “You have my word.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two boys quieted, and every once in a while Vesemir would glance back at the two of them to ensure that they were alright. Instead of them sitting up and watching, the two children had drifted off to sleep in his bed, a blanket tugged haphazardly over the both of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir let out a quiet sigh, turning in his seat to look at them more directly. Eskel and Geralt were curled together, faces tucked in next to each other and their little bodies squished together. They were probably cold, Vesemir thought. The boys never had the same tolerance for cold as witchers did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hourglass had run out and he needed to do his rounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to wake them up and make sure that they two boys made it back to their beds, and yet he didn't want to have to do that. He wanted to be able to leave the two boys to sleep the rest of the night, even if it meant that he didn't get to sleep there in his bed himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, Vesemir thought, the two boys would likely end up going back to bed and possibly not being able to fall asleep. He knelt down next to the bed and brushed a hand over Geralt's dark hair, barely enough contact to rouse the boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Vesemir?" Geralt slurred, sleepy. He barely picked his head up from where it was next to Eskel, who dozed on, likely exhausted from crying earlier. "Whatisit?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to do my rounds," Vesemir told Geralt, "you two can sleep here. I'll bring you back to your room in the morning so you can get ready for training." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Really?" Geralt asked blearily, green eyes blinking. "Will we get in trouble?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not this time, pup," Vesemir reassured Geralt. "I'll be back soon. You go back to sleep." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt laid his head back down on the pillow next to Eskel. Vesemir opened his chest at the end of the bed and removed a heavy quilt that served him through the winters. He draped it over the two boys, made sure that they were going to be alright, then headed off on his rounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he returned, satisfied that all of the other boys were still where they belonged in bed, Geralt and Eskel were both back to sleep, still curled together under his quilt. Eskel was hugging onto the pillow like it was the only tether to the world, while Geralt simply rested, uncaring for the awkward position it put him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vesemir seated himself at the desk and went back to mending little Eskel's doll. When the limbs were all reattached and he'd deemed the stitches sturdy enough, Vesemir gently shook Eskel's shoulder to wake the boy, if only for a moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All done," Vesemir offered Eskel the doll. Eskel reached for it immediately, relinquishing his grip on the pillow. Vesemir reached in and re-arranged the pillow so that Geralt would get to use it, and watched Eskel cuddle the doll between himself and Geralt, like he hoped it'd give his friend comfort as well as himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel nuzzled his face into the worn fabric of the doll. "Thank you, papa Vesemir." It wasn’t a nickname the boys used during the days, but come night it was allowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Go back to sleep," Vesemir chided Eskel gently, "you have training in the morning. I don't mind fixing your toy, you're still just a boy." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel nodded, quiet. Vesemir swiped his nearly black hair away from his face and tucked Eskel in before doing the same to Geralt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," Eskel whispered again, "for being nice." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sleep," Vesemir told Eskel again before he went to kneel on the fur in front of the fire. "I'll be here." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel mumbled his assent then went back to sleep, Vesemir assured by the sound of his heartbeat and breathing slowing down, but never as slow as it would be should the boy pass both of the trials. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the morning, he'd wake the boys and take them back to their room to prepare themselves for chores, training and then everything else that would follow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the night, however, Vesemir was content to let the children be children. If he got to spend a night playing the part of a surrogate parent, he wouldn't admit to that doing anything for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years later, when Geralt and Eskel were both fully grown and full-fledged witchers and were among a scant few survivors, Vesemir would look back on the nights that the two of them had come to him, upset and crying and needing a kind hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they nursed him through the hard nights after the raid on Kaer Morhen, Vesemir remembered tucking them into bed and sewing toys together under moonlight. He remembered sitting up with their cohort and reading to them and telling them stories. Neither of them mentioned it, but Vesemir knew that they treated him as gently as he’d treated them as boys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And for that, he was always grateful.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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